


Fire Island Two-Step

by fhsa_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-19
Updated: 2005-07-19
Packaged: 2019-02-05 19:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12800442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: Mulder and Alex, Fire Island, fishing, first time...Co-written with Dr. Ruthless





	Fire Island Two-Step

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

Shit!

 

Hellfire!

 

Hopelessly tangled in his fishing line, Mulder impatiently grabbed his flensing knife, and ruthlessly cut the damned thing away from his body. Tossing the pole - and the offending line aside, he upended his tackle box onto the beach. Just for good measure, he ground the assorted lures, hooks and other paraphernalia deep into the sand with one foot.

 

So much for fishing. Hadn't been relaxing - it was, in fact, a fucking aggravating pastime, in his considered opinion.

 

Moodily, he surveyed the fruits of his attempt to find peace in the meditation that he'd been assured necessarily followed from fishing. One badly split thumb, the result of his successful hooking of himself, many small lines, formerly one useful line, and a severe case of sunburn on his nose were all he had to show for his morning's efforts. He might as well have spent the time with his head in a bucket while someone whacked it with a stick for all the ease he'd

found. To hell with Isak Walton.

 

He couldn't even relax properly, for God's sake. In complete disgust, Mulder stomped away. Once within the gratifying coolness of the cottage he'd - in a moment of insanity - purchased, the former FBI Agent got himself a glass of iced tea and settled in front of his computer.

 

This time there might actually be something worth reading in his mailbox...

 

Perching his glasses on his nose he bent to study the email. Not much -- a solicitation from someone called Candy to watch her make him very happy, an offer to halve his mortgage payments, and several invitations to purchase CDs... Same old garbage, he thought as he utilized the delete button.

 

He paused, momentarily halting his deleting frenzy. Scully had sent him something. 

 

"Hi, Mulder:

 

How's the fishing? I'm almost jealous. I'd leave DC in a heartbeat and go beachcombing if it weren't for John and work. John is still so enthusiastic. He hasn't seen the things that we have. AD Skinner finally threw in the towel too, and left for an extended tour of Europe. There aren't that many of us left from the old days.

 

William has three teeth now and another one on the way, so he's keeping me awake, but I'm happy. I hope that you are too.

 

Let's hear from you soon.

 

Scully. "

 

Oh yeah. He was happy. VERY fucking happy. In fact, he was ecstatic... No FBI, no X-Files - no goddamn John Doggett!

 

Not that he was jealous, he reminded himself. Nope, not one little bit. Scully can have Doggett - with my blessing. 

 

Yet every once in a while, he couldn't help himself. What the hell was Scully thinking - getting involved with Mr.-I-Don't-Believe? Mr.-By-The-Book... BORING!

 

Fuck it all. He was retired - he was happy, dammit. 

 

Right?

 

So why did his heart sink at the thought of another sunny day on the beach with nothing to do but brood over memories that he was better off deleting from his conscious mind? What the fuck was wrong with him?

 

Idly, he closed, then reopened his mailbox. More mail arrived. "Send this message to 10 more people or your head will explode." Ha! Delete. "You could already have won..." Again he hit delete, imagining that he could hear the

shriek of the electrons as they faded to nothingness.

 

"Mulder," just that and no more in the header. That message was from Frohike piqued his interest.

 

It was short, to the point - and, as usual, written in Frohike's version of code:

 

"M,

Have located the package. Call on a secure line for details.

F"

 

Well now... after all this time, The Gunmen had seemingly located the man he'd asked them to find - for reasons he simply refused to examine too closely.

 

Hot Damn!

 

He shut down the computer and gathered his keys, heading out to the jeep. Jesus! What HAD he been thinking? A jeep? 

 

With a roar, the engine caught, and Mulder set off for town. A public phone should be suitably secure, even for Frohike. 

 

He did not allow himself to examine to closely the butterflies of anticipation fluttering in his gut.

 

The phone rang for what seemed like forever. When it was finally picked up, Mulder was about ready to replace the receiver and go kill something from sheer frustration.

 

"Lone Gunmen."

 

"Byers? That you?"

 

"Hey, if it isn't the lost beachcomber. How are you doing, Mulder?"

 

"Don't ask! I had a message from Frohike. Is he around?"

 

There was a confused crackling sound, and then Frohike's voice sounded.

 

"Hey, Mulder. Is that you?"

 

"Sure it's me, Frohike. Who were you expecting? Alex Trebek?"

 

"Ha-ha, Mulder. Retirement has done NOTHING to improve your sense of humor," Frohike responded dryly. 

 

"Yeah, yeah... Fuck you too. So," Mulder dove right into his reason for calling, "You found him? Where?"

 

Frohike snorted. "You're not gonna believe this one, Mulder. Your man is on Fire Island - has a Landscape Design firm."

 

Mulder actually forgot to breathe for a moment; his incredulity knowing no bounds. "Frohike, you do NOT amuse. Now, tell me where he is, dammit."

 

"I'm telling you, he's on Fire Island. His company is called "The Avant Gardener". Uses the name Alex Michaelson these days."

 

"What the fuck...?" Without thinking, Mulder replaced the receiver and wandered slowly away, lost in thought. This was nuts. For a start, the man was a stone cold killer, not some kind of freaking plant man. What did he know about plants? And... Fire Island? His mind boggled.

 

He returned home and called a travel agent to make arrangements for a flight to New York City. Six months on Cozumel had not made him a master of the language. He could say 'El Chupacabra' of course, but there was little demand for that in casual conversation.

 

Summoning his houseboy, Ramon, he gave instructions as to how to take care of the place in his absence, and then began to pack. He wondered why the decision to leave paradise for New York at the height of summer made him feel so good.

 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

 

"Oh, Alexxx."

 

The unmistakable trill of Alistaire's voice sent a shudder of dread down Krycek's spine. Dammit, he'd been careful to schedule this day's work at a time when the little fairy would be gone... 

 

FUCK!

 

Sighing heavily and straightening his shoulders, Alex pasted a non-committal expression on his face and turned to face his newest client.

 

"Alistaire," he greeted, genuinely trying to be pleasant. "Thought you were off to the city for the weekend."

 

"Oh please, call me Ali - you KNOW I don't insist on formality," 'Ali' simpered.

 

A distinct feeling of nausea rose in Krycek's gut.

 

"You look so very WARM, Alex. Come inside and join me in a drink," Alistaire offered hopefully. 

 

"I uh... have a truckload of faggots... umm... turf, you know? For that new resort over in Robbin's Rest. I can't just leave it and... I'll take a rain check, okay?" As he spoke, Alex Michaelson backed away toward the truck, and safety.

 

Alistaire looked crestfallen as he watched Alex escape his lure. Always attractive, Alex looked no older than he had done 5 years before. Dark hair and brilliant eyes set into a face that seemed incredibly innocent, made him a thing of beauty to look at, and had caused a pang in more than one hopeful breast in the community he had chosen.

 

Clambering with more haste than grace into his truck, Alex caught an expression of unholy glee on the faces of several of his employees. Bastards. They were enjoying Alistaire's pursuit of their boss altogether too much - just as they always did. Every damned client seemed to feel the need to break through Alex Michaelson's walls. Each was convinced that he was just the man to make Alex happy.

 

Alex couldn't find it in himself to return the interest of ANY of them. Some of the best looking men he'd ever seen - all gay - all willing...

 

And he felt nothing.

 

Beating a hasty retreat from the worksite, Alex put the truck into gear and swung it around to head for the highway.

 

He wasn't unhappy in his new life. His old life seemed so faint and far away, but there were remembrances that still rose unbidden before his eyes, especially when he was alone.

 

Chief amongst the memories plaguing him was Fox Mulder. All he could see at times like this was the face of his other self, the man who had put him through hell, and for whom he still would lay down his life.

 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

 

Determinedly, Mulder ignored the squalling child held in the arms of the woman next to him. There were so few seats on the ferry to Long Island at this time of year, he was grateful to have one. 

 

Thankfully, the crossing was almost over - soon he'd be on Fire Island. In Lonelyville - *Lonelyville?* - where, according to Frohike, Alex Krycek now resided.

 

What he'd actually DO once he located the man - if indeed he was actually there - Mulder hadn't a clue.

 

When the ferry docked, Mulder had returned to his rental car in his impatience to disembark. He studied the map as he waited, committed his route to memory, and tossed the map into the back seat.

 

As the vehicles slowly moved off the ferry, Mulder found himself chomping at the bit. As his turn came, he surged forward, fighting his way through the snarl of traffic. He finally reached the highway and accelerated, relieved to leave the crowds behind. 

 

The day was pleasant, even though he found himself following a pick-up loaded with turf. Fighting impatience, eager to arrive in the area Alex now apparently called home, Mulder sighed and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited for an opportunity to pass. The truck was moving at a reasonable speed, but Mulder found himself chafing with the need to get around the lumbering vehicle. At last, an opening occurred and he overtook the truck, roaring past and steadily leaving it behind.

 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

 

Christ on a crutch. Alex shook his head at the foolishness of the damned summer residents. 

 

Then... his brain finally processed the driver who'd just zoomed past him.

 

No!

 

Couldn't be.

 

Not at all possible.

 

Still... Speeding up, he soon drew alongside the maniac in the Volkswagon convertible. Took a good look as he accelerated past. 

 

It WAS Mulder.

 

Huh?

 

Mulder turned to glare at him, and then stared, mouth hanging open in surprise. 

 

And stared.

 

Until his car ran off of the narrow roadway and came to a screeching halt.

 

Well, shit.

 

Unable to stop himself, Alex pulled over ahead of Mulder and climbed out of his truck. Slowly, reluctantly, he started walking back towards Mulder's car.

 

Mulder sat, grinding his teeth. Sure he had wanted to see this man that was approaching, but not like this. Not while sitting ignominiously in a car that he had just run off the road through sheer, blind stupidity. Madly, he imagined Krycek spouting off DOT statistics to fit the occasion, swearing under his breath at the thought.

 

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Krycek looked as good as ever - possibly better now that the strain had gone from his face. Mulder glared. How dare this happen? 

 

Intensifying his glare, Mulder growled, "Well, I THOUGHT I was enjoying a nice drive on this lovely summer afternoon. Until you ran me off of the fucking road, that is."

 

"Until *I*..." Alex's mouth opened and closed, a suitable retort apparently not forthcoming.

 

"Yeah," Mulder grated, "until YOU ran me off - dammit, Krycek, you could've killed me!"

 

"You... you... " Still unable to speak coherently, Krycek settled for shaking his head in disbelief. "You're crazier than ever, Mulder," he finally said. "What the hell are you doing here? What do you want?"

 

Mulder answered with a noncommital shrug.

 

"I thought you were living in Mexico - What? Miss the good old US of A?" Krycek smirked and raised one eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

 

Ah ha. Oh ho. So, the Rat had kept tabs on him. "Miss me, Krycek?"

 

A shadow passed over the well-remembered features, and Mulder held his breath. Why was he here? What was the point? He'd come to Fire Island on a whim and totally screwed up his entrance. What the hell could he do now? 

 

"Miss you? Oh yeah... Nobody to beat on me, nobody to call me names and punch me out? Such memories are priceless, Mulder, how could I help but miss you?" The smirk had not changed. The posture was still arrogant and the attitude challenging. Mulder felt his stomach flip with sudden wild excitement.

 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

 

Oops.

 

The expression on Mulder's face told Alex that he'd made a major error. 

 

Hoping to salvage the situation Krycek scowled and stepped back. "Mulder," he said impatiently. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

 

"Visiting an old friend, of course," Mulder responded entirely too smoothly. "Aren't you happy to see me. OLD FRIEND?"

 

Friend? FRIEND! 

 

Krycek sneered, "You've obviously gone completely 'round the bend, Mulder. *I* have work to do, and I'm NOT in the mood for your shit." Heading back to his truck, Krycek threw one last comment over his shoulder. "Enjoy your vacation, Mulder. And, LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!"

 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

 

That did it. The dumb fuck had walked away from him... from him! After he'd traveled so far to find him. Mulder flung himself out of the car and stomped angrily after Krycek, reaching him just as he arrived at the truck cab.

 

"Krycek, I..." He got no further. Krycek turned, eyes blazing, a snarl on his lips, and Mulder quailed. As Krycek

raised his hand to shove him back, Mulder did the only thing that came to mind. He pulled Krycek's face toward him, and kissed him in mid snarl.

 

Frozen in shock, Krycek tried to pull back. Mulder made a distressed noise and clamped one hand to the back of the other man's neck, holding him in place. His lips opened, softening as Krycek seemed to accept this assault upon his person. Carefully, Mulder traced a line around Krycek's lips, nibbled on the full lower one of the pair, and probed hesitantly with the very tip of his tongue - asking, begging, for admittance. With a sigh, Krycek parted his lips, but did nothing more participatory. 

 

Relieved, Mulder wrapped his arms around Krycek's shoulders, pulling him close, pressing their bodies together. 

 

For a moment or two, it felt as though Krycek was going to respond to his caresses, but then his arm struggled up to press against Mulder's throat, and Mulder found himself shoved hard against the side of the pickup with Krycek's lean body keeping him in place.

 

"What are you doing?" Krycek's voice was still the same throaty growl he remembered, and his groin pulsed and the fine hairs on the back of his neck rose as the words brushed his skin,.

 

"I... I came to find you." Mulder wasn't even attempting to fight him, and that seemed to confuse Krycek.

 

"Why?" Krycek asked, voice husky with bafflement. His arm slowly lowered, hand coming to rest on Mulder's hip. Still pressed tightly against the other man, Krycek moistened his lips and looked at Mulder, eyes clouded by confusion and suspicion.

 

Mulder shrugged. "Why what? Why did I come to find you or why did I kiss you?"

 

"Both. Either. Explain yourself, Mulder."

 

That was the problem, Mulder thought. He COULDN'T explain. Not when he didn't understand his motivations himself. Damn.

 

Lowering his head to rest on Krycek's shoulder, Mulder sighed. "I don't know, Alex. I don't ... Shit! Can we go somewhere and talk? A bar, maybe or," he added hesitantly, "your place?"

 

Krycek didn't push him away, instead adjusting his position so that he could open the door of his truck. Mulder risked a look and found himself eye to eye with a very puzzled assassin cum spy cum landscape architect.

 

"There's a bar near here. I have to deliver this turf before it dries out though." He indicated the rear of the truck and the sod that was piled high. "You can come with me if you want, or go on ahead to the bar and wait if it's convenient for your lodging. Where are you staying, Mulder?"

 

Frowning, Mulder suddenly realized that he had no idea.

 

"I... uh... thought that I'd get something when I arrived."

 

"Are you insane?" Krycek shifted away from him, and his body felt the lack of contact as though it were a blow. "You expect to find a room on the island at the height of the tourist season!" He shook his head and turned to his truck, glancing behind him as he did so.

 

"C'mon, Mulder, make up your mind. Are you coming with me or going on to find The Hotspot?" Without waiting for an answer, Krycek climbed into the truck and closed the door, resting his prosthetic elbow on the window frame.

 

Momentarily, it occurred to Mulder that searching for accommodations might be the sensible way to pass the time. Fascinated by this Back-To-Nature-Krycek, Mulder made his decision.

 

"Going with you, Alex. I'm not taking any chances on losing you now."

 

Nodding towards the passenger side door, Krycek gestured impatiently. "Well then, climb in. I'm on a schedule, you know."

 

Mulder started around the front of Krycek's truck, then paused. "Maybe I'd best follow you, Alex. Probably shouldn't abandon the rental."

 

"Remarkably practical of you, Mulder," Krycek said dryly. 

 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

 

Mulder drew his car up beside the truck and stepped out as Krycek fumbled for a clipboard and pen after clambering down from the truck's cab. Leaning on the hood, Mulder watched Krycek stalk away in search of someone to sign his delivery note. He felt a strange, unfamiliar fluttering as he watched Krycek's lean form. The worn jeans fit him like a second skin, and he didn't so much walk as prowl.

 

Moments later, Krycek returned with an older man walking possessively close to him. Mulder's stomach clenched as he watched the guy put the moves on Alex. He had begun to gnash his teeth before noticing that Alex had a vaguely irritated look in his eye.

 

Mulder wasn't prepared for the ex-assassin to bring the jerk across to him, and even less prepared for an introduction as Krycek's 'special' friend..

 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

 

Mulder's amazed expression colored Krycek's cheeks.

 

Well, shit. Why the fuck not? Mulder HAD come looking for him - HAD kissed him ... and, Billy, the horny bastard HAD been making him absolutely crazy with his incessant and irritatingly obvious passes. Carpe diem!

 

Thankfully, Mulder cooperated, without question - a first? - and moved a step closer, slinging an arm, oh-so casually,

over Alex's shoulders, smiling with wolfish warning at Billy. 

 

"Glad to meet you," Mulder said in a flat tone, leaving no doubt that he was not.

 

Krycek relaxed into Mulder's hold and smiled at Billy. "Mulder is here for a visit - we haven't seen each other in ages. I'm just going to drop off this sod, Bill. The boys will be over to lay it a little later this afternoon."

 

Mulder dropped his face into the warmth of Krycek's neck, flicking his tongue over the slightly salty flesh as he rubbed his cheek against the tight, white T-shirt that the ex-assassin wore. As

Billy dejectedly made his way back to the office, Alex peeled

Mulder's arm away from him and moved out of the embrace.

 

"Thanks. Very convincing." He pulled out a cell phone, calling to tell his staff where the truck was and what needed doing. Finished, he tucked the phone back into his belt and hopped into Mulder's rental car.

 

Determinedly, Alex ignored the pout on Mulder's face. Damned if he'd willingly play along with whatever game the bastard had going. He remained mostly silent throughout the drive to the HotSpot - only opening his mouth to give directions.

 

Once they'd arrived, Alex led the way inside and settled into his favorite booth. 

 

The waiter scurried over as soon as his eyes lit upon Alex. "What can I get for you two?" he asked, cheerful in the way that only people dependent on tips are. "Your usual, Alex?" the waiter asked familiarly. He smiled widely when Krycek nodded. When he turned his attention to Mulder, the smile became somewhat chilly. 

 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

 

Mulder ordered a beer, and watched the young man saunter back to the bar to fill their order. Turning to Alex, Mulder noted the grey at his temples, and the relaxed posture that denoted a peace he couldn't recall ever seeing in Krycek before. 

 

"I missed you, Alex. I tried to forget you, but I couldn't."

 

When the waiter reappeared with their drinks, Mulder fumbled for money, pointedly ignoring the server's hostility. As the kid walked away, his scowl enhanced by a less than liberal application of small change, Mulder laid his hand on Alex's, and sat forlornly.

 

He hadn't the slightest idea where to start. He'd been in such a hurry to get here, he'd not taken the time to decide what he wanted to say to Alex. Or why he felt such an urgent need to see the man.

 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~

 

"What is it, Mulder? You look like you've lost your best friend." Alex regarded the face across from him, allowing that warm, long-fingered hand to remain on top of his own.

 

Mulder sighed heavily and studied the tabletop. "I don't know, Alex. I want... hell, I don't know exactly what I want. I just know that you're a part of it." He turned Alex's hand over and carefully traced the lines and creases of his palm. 

 

"I've been looking for you," Mulder confessed. "I needed to see you ... needed to get you out of my system, or..."

 

Alex watched him as though he'd never seen anything like him before. His inspection went on for so long that Mulder could stand no more. He brought Alex's hand to his mouth and traced the lines of the wide palm with his tongue. After a moment or two, Alex let out a shuddering breath, and lowered his eyes.

 

"And am I out of your system now?" he asked huskily. The lines of his body were taut, gathered ready to run.

 

Mournfully shaking his head, Mulder quietly muttered, "No, I don't think so."

 

"Uh huh." Krycek looked skeptical, suspicious and wary. "So... that leaves us with that orphan 'or.' Care to tell me what that might entail?"

 

"Um... well," Mulder mumbled hesitantly. He paused, gathered his courage by straightening his shoulders and taking a deep breath. "Alex... I wonder... I think... Ithinkwe'reattractedtoeachother." Raising his eyes to meet Krycek's, he shrugged. "I think - I know I'm attracted to you." 

 

"Tell me," rasped Alex, exasperated as he took in Mulder's sincerity, "when you started to believe that." 

 

Mulder toyed with his glass, turning it between flexible fingers as he pondered. The silence between them extended until the afternoon seemed muted, the air itself pouring like resin to preserve the two of them as they sat. 

 

Finally, Mulder hung his head and averted his face as he whispered his reply. "Since the day I first saw you, standing there so brash and confident with my case file? under your arm." He turned, his eyes meeting Alex's full on. "I've always been attracted to you. I tried not to be, but I was."

 

"And by 'attracted' you mean ... what, exactly?"

 

Fuck! Damned man wasn't giving him the slightest break. Not that Mulder could blame him. His past treatment of Krycek had been... well, sick really. Abusive. Hateful. 

 

Realizing the extent of his own arrogance in imagining that Alex might return his feelings, Mulder pushed his beer to one side and started sliding out of the booth. "Sorry, Krycek. I'm an idiot. I don't know what I was thinking, coming here like this. I'll be going now. "

 

Face carefully blank, Krycek watched as Mulder rose and turned to leave. He almost managed it, too. Almost stayed in that booth. Almost let Mulder walk out.

 

"Hey, Mulder," Krycek was amazed to hear himself say. "You're my ride... remember? The least you can do is give me a lift back to my truck."

 

Turning back, Mulder returned almost sheepishly to the booth, sitting beside Alex. Neither moved for a time. Then at last, Mulder turned to Alex, groaned, and applied cool lips to Alex's mouth as he cradled the sleek, dark head.

 

This time, Alex responded. In his arms, Alex was a work of art, warm and firm, strong and trembling as the kiss caught fire. The conflagration spread through Mulder's body until all his conscious thought was subsumed into warmth, moisture and dancing tongues. He moaned in a kind of ecstasy that he'd never expected to feel, and his hands slid over Alex's shoulders, down to trace his chest and around his waist to hold him tight.

 

What the FUCK am I doing? thought Alex.

 

Survival instincts - almost forgotten in this, his new life - clamored in his brain. Mulder. He was allowing Mulder to kiss him... and he was responding with embarrassing enthusiasm. Never mind that he'd wanted the man for years and years - this was a mistake. A mistake that could - and probably would - lead to disaster.

 

And yet... GOD, after all this time, to finally feel Mulder's arms around him, to be held and kissed with such open need. To have Mulder actually come here in search of him. To know that the man had been looking for him. He could almost believe.

 

Shit! You, Alex, are a FOOL!

 

Scared of what his response was revealing, Alex turned his head to the side, breaking off the kiss with distressing abruptness. He couldn't quite bring himself, however, to pull away from the tight hold Mulder had around his waist.

 

"Mulder." Hearing the husky quality of his own voice, Krycek paused and cleared his throat. "Mulder," he started again, "don't you think this is a little... ah, sudden? I mean, after so long as enemies, don't you think we should... talk? Clear the air? Figure out just what we want from each other? Decide if we can even be friends - much less lovers?"

 

Mulder didn't - couldn't - let go of Krycek. He laid his cheek against Alex's face, rubbing it gently against the rough skin of the man's chin as he tried his damnedest to put into words the craving that he'd had for as long as he'd known Alex.

 

"If you think that I'll let you go now that I've caught up with you, you got another think coming." The words lacked Mulder's usual sarcasm. Behind the voice lay an immutable truth that caused Alex's insides to start melting. "I've looked for you for the past year. I can't concentrate any more. You can't cut me loose. It wouldn't be humane."

 

"Okay," Alex whispered. "Okay." He closed his eyes, reveling in the caress of Mulder's face. He wanted so badly to believe. To trust someone. "I think," he said in an uncertain tone, "that we should get out of here - go to my place."

 

The sudden pounding of Mulder's pulse threatened to make Alex forget his fears - to let go and grab this incredible opportunity to make his dreams come true. But, his self-defense mechanisms warned him that if he did - if he opened himself to Mulder - he'd pay in pain. Heavily. 

 

"Mulder, let's go now. We need to talk. In private." 

 

The ride back to Krycek's place was accomplished in silence. Mulder drove as though he were racing in a Grand Prix, and Alex had to shout to slow him down as they reached the turn-off to his street. When at last they pulled up outside his house, Alex felt weak with relief.

 

"Christ, man, are you trying to kill us both? Your driving hasn't changed, has it?" he asked, rhetorically, and Mulder shivered under his gaze. As he went to unlock his front door, Alex wondered precisely what he'd got himself into, and how he was ever going to be able to extract himself without getting hurt all over again. 

 

Mulder followed, looking around with appreciation at the gaily-colored furnishings and bright prints that made up Alex's living room. Alex indicated that he should take a seat, and then vanished, returning with a couple of beers. Sitting himself down cross-legged on the floor facing Mulder, he handed a bottle to his visitor.

 

"Okay, Mulder, talk to me. What is it that you think you want?"

 

"I want us to put the past to rest. I want... I want you, Alex. I want a relationship, if possible." Mulder averted his eyes and continued, "We could be friends, I think. Maybe more. But most of all, I want to KNOW you - the real you. Your past. What made you do the things you did. You had reasons; I don't know what they were, but I want to... and, I want you to know me. Know what you feel for me. Why you put such effort into helping me."

 

Alex was momentarily speechless. He had NO idea how to respond. No idea how to suppress the fear brought about by Mulder's speech - Mulder's open need. And, dammit, to actually reveal his past, his childhood, his motivations - not to mention his intense feelings for Mulder ... 

 

Shit!

 

"I don't know where to start, Mulder. Don't know if I can tell you what you want to know."

 

"You're scared," Mulder said softly. "I'm frightened, too, Alex. Scared to death. But... I want - I NEED - for us to try."

 

Alex frowned and flopped down to lie on his stomach, as much to avoid scrutiny as for comfort. Staring at the neck of his beer bottle, Alex seemed to be lost in thought, his head pillowed on his arm. 

 

Mulder was sure that Krycek had fallen asleep when he spoke. "When I was a kid, it all seemed so easy. I was bright, and attractive and I didn't have to work at things to make them happen. It's funny, but that began to change the day that I met you. All of a sudden I was without a clue, and the one thing that I knew that I wanted was impossible." 

 

He stopped speaking abruptly, almost as though he thought he'd betrayed himself somehow, and took a long swallow of beer. "You cost too much for me then, Mulder. What makes me think that I can afford you now?" 

 

Mulder dropped his eyes, staring at the area rug blankly. The rich colors swam before suddenly misted eyes. He'd cost Alex so much already. Had taken every opportunity to sneer at him. - Had struck him again and again in anger and frustration. Had taken every opportunity to humiliate him.

 

Jesus! No wonder Alex was so hesitant. 

 

With a sigh, Mulder rose to his feet. "You're right, Alex. You can't afford me - can't take a chance on me. I... I shouldn't have come here. Shouldn't have expected that we could... Shit!" Aware of Krycek's incredulous stare, Mulder crossed to the door. "I know I'm self-involved. Know my own faults all too well - I just thought... hoped ..." He sighed and shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry, Alex," he reiterated. "Truly sorry to have brought our past back into your thoughts. I wish you the best, partner. Be happy." With that, Mulder turned the knob and opened the front door.

 

Left there on the floor, Alex gave a little, soft sound that might have been a sob, and laid his head down on his arm once more. Mulder heard it, turned and stood, undecided.

 

"Tell me what you want, Alex? I'm not doing too well here. Shall I go? Stay? What?" Mulder only now fully realized the pain that he had caused - was still causing.

 

"I don't know," came the muffled reply. Alex's face wasn't visible, and Mulder swiftly retraced his steps to drop to his knees beside the prone man.

 

"Alex?" There was no immediate response. "Alex?" he repeated, and at that, Krycek faced him, revealing eyes that were suspiciously bright. Mulder felt himself melting, and half reached for Alex, but stopped short of taking hold of him.

 

"God, Mulder," Alex whispered. "What the hell are we going to do? I DO want... so much... so very much. But, I can't help but be afraid of what you could do to me."

 

Mulder grimaced with pained recognition of the potential for disaster. "I don't want to hurt you anymore, Alex. Tell me what to do," he begged with unaccustomed humility. "What can I do to... what can I do?" 

 

Krycek shook his head. "I'm not sure, Mulder. I want you to stay, but, that very want makes me... You scare me - *I* scare me." 

 

"Then maybe it's best if I leave, after all," Mulder said, reluctance clear in his tone. 

 

"No," Alex murmured. "Stay. For now. Give me a chance to... Give me some time."

 

Scrambling to his feet, Alex collected the empty beer bottles and headed back towards his kitchen. "C'mon, Mulder. If we're gonna get to know each other, we should start now." The kitchen was a large room, organized around a central island with a marble top. Alex made for it, detouring to put the bottles into a crate that stood beside the back door. 

 

"What are you doing?" Mulder asked, as Alex began to place items on the island.

 

"Making dinner. Come here." Beckoning Mulder over, Alex handed him a potato peeler and a colander. As Mulder stood, brandishing the peeler aimlessly, Alex dumped potatoes onto the counter. "There. You peel those!"

 

"What are you cooking?" asked Mulder, poking a potato dubiously. Alex had already stacked onions, carrots and peppers beside a chopping board before reaching for a sharp knife.

 

"Chicken casserole. If you play your cards right, you can eat some later, but only if there are potatoes to go with it."

 

Fascinated by this unexpectedly domestic side to Krycek, Mulder stood, silently watching the onion be expertly diced.

 

"Mulder," Alex scolded, "potatoes... You ARE capable of peeling potatoes, aren't you?"

 

Startled by Alex's teasing, Mulder stared at the man for a beat, then grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah - getting right on it, boss." 

 

He picked up a potato, held it in one hand, peeler in the other. Awkwardly, he started to peel. A peel that was more of a scrape..

 

Krycek snorted. "Here," he said, grabbing first the peeler and then the potato out of Mulder's hands steadying the potato with his prosthetic hand as he worked. "Watch and learn." With practiced motions, Alex soon finished with the first potato. He set it in the colander, regarding Mulder with amused eyes. "Think you can take care of the rest?" 

 

They worked together in companionable silence until the casserole was placed in the pre-heated oven. "There." Krycek set the timer, put the potatoes into a saucepan, turned the burner on, and smiled at Mulder. "We're all set. Let's head into the living room and watch a movie."

 

Gladly retreating from the scene of their culinary escapade, Mulder made for Alex's video collection and perused the titles, opting for Star Trek: Generations. Grinning, Alex dropped to his knees to get the VCR going, and Mulder flung himself onto the couch - an expensive, comfortable item of furniture covered in white leather, that was so far removed from his own old black one that it was a marvel that anyone would call them by the same name. 

 

Lounging, Mulder settled down to watch the movie, half aware that Alex had taken a seat in a chair adjacent the couch. Five minutes into the movie, he realized that thoughts of Alex had prevented him from following a word. Finally, he spoke.

 

"Come on, Alex. Sit beside me?" Mulder looked so forlorn that Alex took a place on the couch next to him.

 

He knew it wasn't a good idea, sitting so close to Mulder. But, shit, it was nice. A soothing warmth emanated from the other man's body. Alex felt it all along his arm, as it rested against Mulder's. And Mulder smelled good. Without conscious thought, Alex's breathing grew deeper. Oh yeah, Mulder smelled GOOD. Warm. Clean. Masculine. 

 

Alex had always been attracted to men. Oh, he'd had his share of women - mostly in the course of one job or another - but men were his preference. It had been so long since he'd felt this way... too long. He'd chosen Fire Island in the hope that he'd find someone - anyone - to help him forget Mulder. It had been an abysmal failure. He led a productive and relatively contented life here. But, he never forgot. Never found that someone. He still wanted only Mulder.

 

Awareness of the object of his desires sitting only a couple of inches away made it impossible for Alex to concentrate. Giving up the pretense, he glanced from beneath heavy lashes at Mulder, only to find him staring back with a perplexed, hopeful expression. Turning to face Mulder, he offered a small smile.

 

"I think about you all the time, Mulder. There's never been a day when I didn't wonder what you were doing." Alex spoke softly, and when he was done, he sat perfectly still, waiting. Mulder shivered, opening and closing his hands before swearing under his breath and leaning forward to apply his lips to Alex's soft mouth.

 

Oh.

 

O-oh.

 

Alex couldn't resist the warmth of Mulder's lips. Hesitantly, he returned the kiss and suddenly they were reclining on the sofa, Krycek atop Mulder, and the kiss had become every dream Alex had ever had. Vaguely, he heard himself moan as his hips ground against Mulder's. Strong arms held him close and Mulder arched up into him, telling him, in no uncertain way, that Mulder was just as lost in the moment. 

 

It seemed as if they'd been there forever - and for a nanosecond - when noises from the kitchen finally caught Alex's attention. He raised his head, despite Mulder's wordless complaints, and listened. 

 

*Pop*

 

*Sizzle*

 

Damn! The fucking potatoes were boiling over. Reluctantly, and with not more that a little difficulty, Alex peeled himself away from Mulder. 

 

Staring at him with dazed incomprehension, Mulder struggled to a sitting position. "Sorry," Mulder offered. "I don't want to... I mean, I know I jumped you. I'll try to control myself, Alex. I just want you so much!"

 

"Hold that thought, Mulder," groaned Alex as he hustled to save the potatoes. 

 

As Mulder stumbled after him, a worried frown marring his face, Alex reached the burner, turned it off and removed the offending pot from the stove. Facing a confused, shuffling Mulder, Alex put his arm out and drew him close. 

 

"It's okay," he whispered, honeyed bedroom voice scratching at Mulder's pleasure centers. "The dinner was burning. Your hard work would have been in vain. We'd have no potatoes and..." He paused, chest heaving, as he tried to catch his breath. "Oh, fuck! Stop babbling, Krycek," he murmured, and fixed his mouth onto Mulder's, leaning the other man against the countertop as he slid his tongue into the hot mouth that opened to receive it. 

 

Bodies straining against one another, they lost themselves in the feel of one another and the sweet, hot desire that was beginning to catch fire. The pinging of the oven timer startled both, making them jump apart, both flushed and somewhat wild of eye.

 

"Dinner... Dinner's ready," croaked Alex as he attempted to regain control.

 

"Dinner?" Mulder repeated, as if he'd never heard such a word. "Oh! Dinner." He shook off his distraction and stepped back from Alex. "What can I do to help?"

 

"Um... you can set the table," Alex answered. He opened the oven and pulled out the steaming casserole. "Plates are in that cabinet," he said, pointing. "Silverware is in the drawer under the spice rack." 

 

Mulder set the table as Alex carried the food into the dining area. Once everything was arranged to Alex's exacting standards, they sat down.

 

The food was good... at least, Mulder supposed it was. He really couldn't summon up any appetite, even though it smelled wonderful. After a few mouthfuls he laid his fork down and raised his eyes to Alex. 

 

Who was looking at him, all huge eyes and a frown that creased his nose. For a moment or two, they sat and gazed at each other over their steaming plates of casserole, and then Alex pushed his chair back decisively, rose to his feet and moved purposefully around to Mulder. 

 

"Come on."

 

Wordlessly, Mulder rose and followed Krycek up a flight of stairs to a sleeping loft. When Alex turned back, Mulder was already moving forward, ready to take him, pull him in and possess his mouth . Alex sighed softly as he opened to the searching kiss, his arm wrapping around Mulder to hold him close.

 

Alex still couldn't quite believe what was happening, Mulder's need and intensity were too much to accept. Today, for the first time in more years than he cared to count, Alex had been - was still afraid. Afraid of revealing too much of himself. Afraid of losing himself in Mulder's touch.

 

Instinctively, Krycek tensed. He wanted to run and, paradoxically, he wanted to remain pressed against Mulder's lean form until the end of time. 

 

Lowering his head, Mulder began a detailed examination of Alex's neck using lips, teeth and tongue. "Jesus, Alex," he whispered, voice husky with emotion. "I've wanted this for so long. Even when I hated you, I wanted you more than you can imagine." 

 

"Is that what this is, Mulder? Want?"

 

"I don't know what the fuck it is, quite honestly." Mulder's lips moved against Alex's cheek as he spoke, and he punctuated his words with little licks, catlaps that sent shivers through Alex as he struggled to keep himself sensible, guarded against the pain that could strike him at any moment. 

 

"All I know is that I can't forget you, can't get you out of my mind. I've tried. All I can see is you, Alex. I'm officially crazy now... crazy for you! Patsy Cline would be so proud!"

 

Okay. He could live with that - for the moment. And, if this moment was all he could have, then, dammit, Alex was going to make the most of it. After all, he'd pretty much accepted that Mulder was going to forever define desire for him, fill his dreams. Might as well take what he could get while it was on offer.

 

With a muffled sigh, Alex started moving them towards the bed - no small trick, what with Mulder's mouth seemingly permanently attached to his throat. Once they reached that destination, Alex pushed Mulder down, following to lay atop him.

 

"Oh, god," Mulder groaned, arching up against Alex's weight. "Please, Alex. I need... I want... "

"Hush!" 

 

The single word huffed out on Alex's panting breath to rest, tickling against Mulder's skin. It was intended to soothe, but its effect was to inflame. Mulder's hands darted over Alex's flesh, trying to map it, commit it to memory. He tugged at Alex's T-shirt, dragging it up to expose the satiny expanse of muscular back. When Alex wouldn't stray from his apparent intent of kissing him to death, Mulder took the hem, jerked sharply, ripping the unfortunate garment from bottom to top, growling with pleasure at the body he'd exposed to his hungry fingertips.

 

Alex's world narrowed to include only the hardness of Mulder's body under his, the incredible warmth of those clever, clever hands caressing him with such urgency, and the hot, wet cavern of Mulder's mouth. Lost in this long-desired, yet never expected, opportunity to touch and be touched by this man, Alex didn't at first register the fact that Mulder was fumbling at the waist of his jeans, trying to open them without losing contact with Alex's devouring mouth.

 

"Shit!" Mulder complained, finally breaking away from the kiss. "Help me, here, Alex. Want you naked. Want to feel all of you - NOW!"There was a pause, a breathless laugh, and Alex raised himself a little, offering the access that Mulder had demanded. "I can't..." he gasped. "Can't support myself and do what I want to do." 

 

Alex had propped himself on his prosthetic arm, attempting to unfasten Mulder's pants with a singleminded intensity that Mulder immediately recognized from their past dealings. Once Krycek had embarked on a plan of action, he would succeed. 

 

"Hang on." Mulder left the fly partially unfastened, put his arms around Alex, and rolled him around until he was lying back on the bed. Struggling up, Mulder stripped off his clothes, tossing them over his shoulder without a thought for where they might land, and returned, naked, to the pursuit of Alex.

 

Stunned by the fact that Mulder - *Mulder* - was in his bed, naked, and apparently determined to have Alex equally so ASAP, Krycek allowed Mulder to strip him of his jeans. That accomplished, one of Mulder's hands slid up to pluck at the strap of his prosthetic.

 

"Alex?" Mulder asked quietly, carefully, gently. "On or off?"

 

Jesus! Alex opened his mouth but was unable to speak. He'd never... no one had ever... Damn. Swallowing heavily, Alex placed his hand over Mulder's, moving it to rest on the fastening. "Off," he whispered.

 

No more words, there wasn't enough space between the two of them for any words. Mouth dropped to mouth and clung there, soft lips gliding over skin until they found a seal. Mulder sucked at Alex's tongue while he gently unfastened the Velcro that held Alex's prosthetic in place.

 

Bare and feeling vulnerable, Alex gasped. Mulder swallowed that gasp, covering Alex, claiming him, arms tightening around him as the prosthesis hit the floor. Now there was no more space between them. 

 

Hot skin slid on its counterpart, and their bodies seemed to strike sparks, causing a shimmering pleasure that arced between them everywhere they touched. Alex was hard, and he could feel Mulder's erection mirroring his excitement. Whatever the past had been, now was the time to mend it. Alex took a deep breath, moaned as Mulder bit the angle of his jaw, and whispered to the man that he'd loved for years, "I want to fuck you, Mulder. I want to feel myself joined to you so closely that I don't know where I end and you start."

 

Oh boy. Mulder shook with the intensity of his reaction to Alex's words. He stilled, raising himself up on his hands to stare at Alex in wonderment. Barely able to wrap his mind around the fact that someone - THIS someone in particular - should want him so badly, he shoved his own doubts, the slight fear he felt at the thought of actually letting go his inhibitions, and smiled shakily.

 

"I... I want that, too, Alex. But I've never actually um, you know..."

 

Green eyes opened wide in momentary shock, as Mulder's words sank into his lust-hazed brain. A virgin. Mulder had just admitted that he was a virgin - with men, anyway. Damn. Alex watched, fascinated as a slow tide of red crept across Mulder's cheeks. 

"You don't... mind, do you?" Mulder asked, uncertain. "That I haven't..."

 

"Shut UP, Mulder," Alex growled.

 

Mulder's lips were full and ripe, and Alex pulled him down, mashing those lips with his own until the two of them shuddered. Lube, he thought. I'm gonna need lube if Mulder hasn't ever been fucked. He groped around on the nightstand for the bottle that he knew stood there, and a further thought struck him. 

 

"Mulder, do you have any condoms? I don't." Alex had been celibate for years , his disgust of the way he'd been played having caused him to leave behind him anything that brought the Consortium to mind, especially sex. At Mulder's muffled, "No," Alex winced. He knew that he was clean, and Mulder, well... "Mulder, when did you last have sex?" 

 

The question was breathed into Mulder's ear, raising the fine hairs at the back of his neck in a delicious frisson. Mulder frowned, trying to recall. "1994, I think. She was a vampire." Alex's laugh made him stare just for one moment, and then mouths collided once more.

 

"Only you, Mulder... only you," Alex snickered. "A vampire, for God's sake ..."

 

Mulder shrugged. "I don't... I mean, I haven't really had all that much experience with sex. Aside from the solitary kind," he admitted. "It just never went well, you know? I always ended up getting hurt in one way or another."

 

"I won't hurt you," Alex promised. "I couldn't... not anymore."

 

The uncertainty on Mulder's face faded into an expression of such trust that Alex actually found himself having trouble swallowing past the lump that had mysteriously appeared in his throat. "Mulder, we don't really need condoms. I'm clean - haven't had sex since I last was tested. Is that okay? I want you badly, but I'm willing to wait until we get what we need. There are other things we can do now."

 

"NO!" Mulder protested emphatically. "I want to - need to feel you - I've dreamed of this for so long. I trust you, Alex. I trust you."

 

Alex seethed with the aching desire to touch, stroke, pierce Mulder's body, and when Mulder's words sank in, he moaned. His hands trembled as he poured from the bottle of lube to wet his fingers, and he held his breath as he fumbled to find the cleft between Mulder's taut buttocks and caress it.

 

Pushing Mulder to lie back against the pillows, Alex stroked him, circling the small opening gently before pressing his finger against the firm muscle. Mulder's breath hitched, he moaned, and Alex grinned, tore his mouth from that of his new lover and slid down to wrap his lips around Mulder's cock. A strangled cry of "Oh, God!" made Alex chuckle, and as he went down on him, he slid his slippery finger up inside Mulder's ass, and began to work the muscle, stretching it.

 

Mumbling incoherently, sensory overload imminent, Mulder closed his eyes and tried to bring himself under control. But, FUCK, the way Alex was touching him, that warm mouth surrounding his aching cock, that probing finger filling him with the most unexpected sensations... Groaning, Mulder raised his knees and spread his legs, silently encouraging, begging for more.

 

"Mmmm," Alex hummed his approval. Raising his head, he looked up at Mulder and grinned. "I'm gonna take such good care of you. You're gonna love this."

 

With a sound that was distressingly needy, Mulder pushed himself down onto Alex's finger and begged, "More, Alex. God... Please, more!"

 

"Shhh," Alex soothed. "We'll get there. But, I won't hurt you - I CAN'T hurt you. Just relax and let me do this my way, okay?" 

 

Mulder whimpered. "Okay. I just - it feels so fucking good, Alex. And it's been so long since anyone has touched me..."

 

"I know, babe. It'll be so much better if we take things slowly, though. Trust me on this."

 

A jerky nod indicated Mulder's agreement. "I do, Alex. I do trust you." Relaxing back against the bed, he raised one hand to stroke Krycek's soft hair. 

 

Once again, Alex leaned down to take Mulder's weeping erection into his mouth, distracting him from the introduction of a second finger into his tight hole. Mulder gasped, arching up into Alex's mouth and trying to push down at the same time to force the invading digits even further inside of his body.

 

A pulsing quiver passed through the cock that Alex was sucking, and Mulder gave a low cry as his orgasm hit, erupting into Alex's mouth, anal muscles tightening, squeezing around Alex's fingers as he shot his load.

 

"Fucking hell! I'm so sorry." Mulder averted his face, blushing. "I feel like an idiot school kid, but you're so... " Words failed him, and he closed his mouth, looking miserable as he waited for Alex to make fun of him.

 

"Plenty more where that came from," smiled Alex. Adding another finger, he pressed them home inside Mulder's hot depths until he felt the hard little gland. As his fingers stroked over it, Mulder cried out, his body tight and hands clenched in the bedsheet as he bucked off the mattress. Almost reflexively, his cock began to firm up, and Alex took it between his lips with a chuckle. 

 

"Oh, god, Alex," Mulder groaned in disbelief. "What are you doing to me? I don't... I never recover this quickly." 

 

Alex's fingers pressed gently against his prostate again and Mulder forgot everything. No more fear. No hesitation. No surprise at his body's responses. He was pure sensation, sheer joy. He could do nothing but accept the attention he was receiving from this man - this incredible man.

 

And then, vaguely, somewhere in the dim recesses of his brain, Mulder realized that he wanted to touch Alex. Taste him. Return to him, in some small measure, the pleasure he'd been offered. Closing his fingers in Alex's hair, Mulder tugged, urging him up.

 

"What?" Alex asked, a worried frown knitting his brow.

 

"I want to touch you, too. I..." Frustrated at his unusual lack of coherency, Mulder shook his head and grimaced. "I don't want this to be a one way exchange, Alex." 

 

Alex stared at him in silence for a beat, then smiled gently. "Next time. Okay, Mulder? I don't think I'll last long if you start touching me, and I ... God, Mulder, I NEED to fuck you. So much."

 

"Then do it, Alex. Make love to me."

 

Without removing his fingers, Alex slithered up to lie behind Mulder. Resting on the stump of his left arm, he nuzzled into Mulder's neck, stirring up little trembles of lust as he breathed. Mulder lay, unsure of what to do, waiting for Alex to guide him, show him what was needed. At last, Alex moved his fingers, twisting them one last time against the place that felt so good, and then they were gone.

 

"Nooo..." The sound of loss was deep and Alex laughed again. 

 

"Hang on, Mulder. It's gonna be fine. Just give me a second here." Alex took himself in hand and placed his cock at the entrance to Mulder's ass, and slowly began to press inside. Mulder gasped, then relaxed and the head of Alex's dick popped through the barrier.

 

"Fuck!" Mulder hissed.

 

Freezing at the exclamation, Alex rested his forehead against Mulder's shoulder and breathed deeply. "You okay?" he asked in a rough tone.

 

"You... you're *inside* of me, Alex," Mulder stuttered. "I can't believe it. It's so... " Impatient, he pushed back against Alex, wanting more. "Shit," he groaned as Alex slid another inch into him. "God, Alex, don't stop. Never stop."

 

As if he could. Alex reached around, wrapping his arm around Mulder's chest and started carefully rocking, easing his way into the tight heat of Mulder's asshole. "Can't stop, Mulder... wanted you for so long... OH GOD!" He was in. And it was so good. So perfect. He could have cried - if he were actually capable of tears, that is - at the rightness of it all.

 

Alex lay still for a time, giving Mulder a chance to adjust, and giving himself a moment to reassert his shattered control.

 

Sweet sensation flickered and flared along Alex's cock. His arm trembled with the need to crush Mulder against him, and his mouth sought Mulder's skin like an addict after a fix, his tongue to lick, his teeth to nip, and his lips to kiss. In and push, whilst his arm encircled his beloved, his hand splayed over the fine sprinkle of hair on Mulder's chest. In again, and at last he was there. All of him, encased in Fox Mulder, so far in that his balls were pressed to Mulder's own.

 

The very concept was enough to cause Alex's insides to melt. He froze, tense and straining, breath a hurried panting that seemed to seek but not find air to draw into his lungs. At last, his toes curling and his body thrumming, he began to move inside of Mulder.

 

Oh shit! The overwhelming sensation of Alex moving against him, thrusting into him, almost made him sob with pleasure. This... THIS was what he'd dreamed of, fantasized about as he lay awake late at night. And, his dreams had not even come close to the reality. It was perfect - it was everything!

 

Gasping and moaning, Mulder shuddered uncontrollably as Alex continued to fuck him. "Alex," he said huskily. "God, Alex... so good. So fucking good."

 

Sharp teeth closed carefully on the nape of his neck, as Alex shifted his hips, thrusting so that the head of his cock found Mulder's prostate gland.

 

Any control Mulder might have retained fled at that moment. One hand reached back to close over Alex's hip as he pushed back urgently. "Again," he begged. "Harder. Fuck me, Alex."

 

"Fuck you? Oh, God!" Alex hissed. "Try and stop me. I couldn't... Ah!"

 

The motions grew stronger, more staccato. Alex was panting, eyes screwed tightly shut with the effort of not coming, not ending this yet. 

 

His hand had slid down to where Mulder's erection throbbed hard and stout. He applied slippery fingers and began to stroke, each pump of his tight fist timed to match the snap of his hips and the puff of his breath against Mulder's ear. Alex was gasping out endearments, laced with curses and foreign words that Mulder didn't know, hadn't heard. As the beat of their bodies grew faster and more insistent, his words were harsher, louder, and the one phrase, 'Ya tebia ljublju' sounded over and over.

 

His heart was going to explode; Mulder just knew it. The twin sensations of Alex's hand on his cock and Alex's dick in his ass were overwhelming - almost too much. Jerkily, Mulder thrashed in intense pleasure. His balls tightened and rose as he felt his orgasm gathering at the base of his spine. 

 

"Come for me, Mulder," Alex urged huskily, lips pressed against Mulder's ear. "Come on, I want to feel you come - hear you come. Now, babe. Do it now."

 

With a scream, Mulder came. Shaking and shuddering, he wondered vaguely if he could actually expire from pleasure. Alex shouted and thrust into him strongly, almost sobbing as the contractions of smooth muscle pulled an orgasm from him.

 

Peace drifted down on them. Aftershock followed aftershock as Alex lay recovering from the most mind-blowing experience of his life. His arm was tight around Mulder, his lips sealed against the rough skin of Mulder's neck. This was heaven, right here. He didn't want to go back to hell. He wished that somehow he could die now, and be forever with the man that was lying against him right now.

 

Mulder felt safe. Warm. Wanted. Maybe more. Hazily mulling over what had just happened and all of the years that had led up to this moment, Mulder found that he wasn't in the least surprised. At least, not by the fact that they'd had sex. Alex's apparent attraction to him - or rather the extremity of the affection that accompanied it- was a bit of a shock. Somehow he'd always thought, in the dead of night when he allowed himself to think about it, that Krycek probably wanted him sexually. He'd thought it would be a power thing, though.

 

But it hadn't. Not at all. And, he wasn't quite sure how he should feel about the warmth filling him at the realization.

 

"Alex?" He finally ventured, tentatively.

 

"Mmm?"

 

"D'you think we could... ah, you know, spend some time together?"

 

Alex raised his head, eyes dark with sated desire, and gazed at Mulder for what seemed like hours. A frown creased his nose as he seemed to try and divine Mulder's deepest thoughts. Slowly, a smile formed on Alex's face, a mere twitching of the corner of his mouth to begin with, gradually spreading to light his entire face.

 

"Think you could get away from me? Not a chance, Fox Mulder. You're mine now. Live with it." Lowering his head until he could claim Mulder's mouth, Alex kissed him long and deep.

 

Those words... what wonderful words. You're mine now. Mine now. Mulder wrapped his arms tightly around Alex and returned the kiss with fervor. When Alex pulled away, Mulder gave a distressed little noise.

 

"Hush," Alex soothed. "Just want to get us cleaned up here." Alex tried to roll to one side but Mulder clutched at him. "Mulder, take it easy. 'M not going anywhere - just wanna grab some tissues."

 

Reluctantly, Mulder eased his hold, allowing Alex to reach the box of Kleenex on the bedside table. Gently, he wiped the stickiness of semen off of each of their bodies, then lay back against the pillows with a contented sigh.

 

Mulder immediately shifted closer, resting his head on Alex's shoulder and draping one arm possessively across his waist. "Did you mean that, Alex? I'm yours now?"

 

"Mmm hmm," Alex agreed sleepily. "Mine. And I'm yours. You're stuck with me, Mulder."

 

Mulder nestled against the smooth form of the man that he had just realized he was in love with, and licked at the soft skin that covered his collarbone.

 

"So, I can stay here with you for now?"

 

Alex shrugged. "Unless you want me to move to Cozumel with you."

 

Mulder thought about that for all of two seconds. "No. No more Cozumel for me. I'm going to sell the cottage, I think."

 

"Good," Alex said with a mighty yawn. "Sleep now, Mulder - we can talk more tomorrow."

 

"One last question. How do you feel about fishing?"

 

"Hate it," Alex said succinctly.

 

Mulder sighed happily. That was the right answer. "In that case, I'll definitely stay."


End file.
